


Dance Floor Blues

by FreshLinguine



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, They're not like dating or anything, Would my courier be considered an OC? We just don't know, i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshLinguine/pseuds/FreshLinguine
Summary: "[Boone] would have liked to think of New Vegas, of Carla, by himself. Not in the presence of big band music, slot machines, and a courier he’s a little too fond of."In which Craig Boone has a mental crisis in the middle of a dance floor.





	Dance Floor Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is my first fic and I'm lil embarrassed by it lol Anyway, this is a fic about my courier, Danny, and Boone. Comments are appreciated and thanks for reading

              Boone groaned into his drink as he watched Danny waltz around the dance floor. He tugged at the sleeves of the prewar suit Danny made him wear, wishing he had stayed at the Lucky 38. He would have liked to think of New Vegas, of Carla, by himself. Not in the presence of big band music, slot machines, and a courier he’s a little too fond of.

              “Hey.”

              Boone looked up and saw Danny, his dance partner disappearing to the slot machines. His pin-striped suit was tacky at best, but he at least had the sense to leave the biker goggles and desperado hat behind.

              Boone momentarily scanned the room before asking, “Where’s that girl you were-“

              “Told her I had to talk to someone.”

              Danny took a seat and scooted closer to Boone. He placed his hand on Boone’s arm and spoke into his ear to try to be heard more clearly over the music. The only problem was that, with Danny’s breath ghosting against his skin, Boone had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying.

              He kept his eyes on his glass as Danny spoke, “You’ve been sitting here all night. Why don’t you come dance?”  
              Boone picked Danny’s hand off of his arm and put it on the table. He resisted the urge to leave his hand over Danny’s, instead drumming his fingers lightly on his glass. He kept his eyes trained to the table, not having his sunglasses to hide his line of sight.

              Boone said flatly, “I’d rather not.”

              “How’s about you dance with me then?”  
              He glanced up at Danny, who looked at him intensely while chewing his lip nervously. His hand had settled on the back of Boone’s chair.

              “What makes you think I want to dance with you?” Boone quipped.

              Danny shrugged and smiled awkwardly, “You’ve just been sitting here all night. Thought maybe it’d lighten your mood a little bit.”

              There was a pause before Boone downed his drink and said, “Just one. Then, we’re leaving.”

              Danny lit up and took Boone’s hand once more, tugging him out of his chair and onto the dance floor. Everyone was smooshed together, but all were caught up in their own little worlds. Boone noted that no one seemed to bat an eye at the two of them walking to the middle of the dance floor. His hand felt like it was on fire in Danny’s grasp. It only seemed to get worse when Danny intertwined his fingers with Boone’s.

              As they came to a halt, Boone said, “I’ll lead.”

              Danny chuckled, guiding Boone’s hand to his waist. Boone felt Danny’s hand glide up his shoulder as they began to sway with the crowd. The music was neither fast nor slow, the volume having softened during their brief conversation. Boone tried to put his eyes on anything other than Danny, which proved to be rather difficult since they were roughly the same height. He tried to remember the last time he danced. It was probably with Carla. God, Carla.

              Danny noticed Boone grip his waist tightly. He moved his hand from Boone’s shoulder to his face, tracing his thumb over his cheek. Boone’s eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed.

              “Boone? Are you ok? Do you want to stop?”

              “I’m fine, I just…”

              Memories of Danny and Carla flashed in his mind, mixed together, before they all became Danny. Carla running her hands through her hair became Danny twirling his short hair in his fingers, showing Boone where the bullet went through his head. Carla in the Mojave sun became Danny illuminated by the colorful lights of the New Vegas strip.

              Boone embraced Danny, burying his face into the crook of his neck. The last thing he wanted was for Danny to see him cry. So Boone continued to sway with the music, moving his other hand to rest around Danny’s waist. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the desert, sweat, and cheap cologne that lingered on his dance partner.

              Upon feeling another hand around himself, Danny wrapped his arm around Boone’s neck. The thought occurred to the both of them that, to anyone who cared to look over, they would look like two lovers. Boone exhaled a shaky breath against Danny’s neck, causing him to shudder slightly. _Oh no_ , he thought, as he traced his lips along Danny’s neck. He remembered how Carla would get when he’d do this, how she would squirm and laugh. Boone briefly wondered if Danny would be the same way.

              Boone pulled himself away from Danny’s neck, resisting the urge to find out. The crowd around them had only thinned out slightly. Although they were no longer shoulder to shoulder with other people, Boone still felt like it was hard to breathe. He still wasn’t looking Danny in the eyes.

              “Craig..?”

              He tried to remember Carla’s voice. In his mind, he saw her lips move but nothing coherent coming out. He heard the idea of her voice, what he thought it sounded like.

              “Craig, are you sure you’re fine?”

              For the first time that night, Boone looked Danny in the eyes. They were a deep brown, darkened by the lights of the dance floor. Numerous scars littered his face, the most prominent being the surgical scar that started at his forehead and disappeared into his hair. They were light in contrast to Danny’s brown skin, reminding him of the desert the two of them must have crossed a hundred times now. All the gun fights, all the places they’ve been.

              Boone forgot that Danny’s hand was on his face until he felt his thumb rub his cheek, slowly etching towards the corner of his mouth. Under his hand, Boone’s cheek was scratchy with stubble. Danny dared to trace his thumb across Boone’s chapped bottom lip. Both of their hearts were racing, their faces gravitating towards each other’s-

              The music around them became fast, near deafening. As people began rushing to the dance floor, Boone felt Danny grab his hand and pull him away from the crowd. And there was that fire again, bringing him out of his daze and scorching his whole body.

              Danny pulled them into a dim, unoccupied hallway. The music there was muffled and quiet through the dark red walls. Danny put his back against the wall and let go of Boone’s hand. Even in the low light, Boone could see that he was blushing.

              Boone placed his hand on the wall beside Danny’s head to steady himself. He wasn’t sure if he should say something, wasn’t sure of what he was doing in general.

              Danny’s hand fidgeted with the collar of Boone’s shirt. Neither of them were sure when they got so close to each other. Neither especially cared.

              “Boone,” Danny stammered, “are you… do you-“

              Danny was cut off by Boone’s lips crashing against his. His head hit the wall behind him as Boone’s hands cupped his cheeks. Boone winced, ready to pull back, but quickly forgot to as Danny locked his arms around Boone’s neck and pulled him closer. Boone bit Danny’s bottom lip, wrapping his arms around Danny’s middle, and secured himself in this bubble where only he and Danny existed.

              “I gotta stop by the room, just give me a- WHOA!”

              Boone and Danny flinched, turning their heads towards the source of the voice. It wasn’t anyone they knew, just two NCR soldiers on leave. It was a little more embarrassing for Boone when he saw them eye his beret. After what felt like ages, the two soldiers hastily walked away, apologizing under their breaths and talking about taking the elevator.

              Danny and Boone slowly separated from each other, looking at the ground. Boone took a quick glance at Danny and saw him stuff his hands in his pockets while shuffling from foot to foot. Boone’s chest clenched with regret. The hallway, the casino, felt too small.

              Danny squeezed passed Boone and gestured for him to follow. They wordlessly walked out of the casino, down the Strip towards the Lucky 38.

              Danny spoke up as they walked, “Hey, I… I’m sorry I made you dance with me. I shouldn’t have pushed you, what with Carla and-“

              “Don’t worry about it.”

              They didn’t talk again until they were in the elevator of the Lucky 38.

              Boone opened his mouth, keeping his eyes on the door, “I don’t regret tonight. This…”

              He cut himself off, not wanting to ruin his confession with whatever followed. Danny was the first to leave the elevator.

              He carefully opened the door to his room, lingering for a moment. Danny turned his head to the side and said softly, “Good night, Craig.”

              When the door clicked shut, Boone slumped against the wall. He wondered into a spare bed and laid down, not bothering with taking off his borrowed suit.

              He tried thinking of Carla one last time, but his memories had all but turned blurry and sepia. All he could think clearly of was Danny, under the cover of darkness, lit up against the shadows by neon lights.


End file.
